Assault
by Crimson Tears
Summary: Hisoka is having nightmares of Muraki's assult and his childhood. Steadily these nightmares are becoming real and more terrifying. What is the secret behind these nightmares and who is sending them? Reviews please! Resubmitted 03.13.07 M for mature themes
1. Forgive me

Disclaimers: I do not own Yami no Matsuei or Descendents of Darkness. However this fanfiction is 100 mine! Thanks!

Authors note: Hey guys! Please leave feedback. If I don't get reviews I'll assume you hate this and I'll quit working on it! Thanks TCT

2007- After taking this fan fiction down in 2003 because of the risky content I have decided to go through and edit it so that it can be re-submitted on I've done my best to remove any graphic sex from this story, but in keeping with the true story of Yami no Matsui, a little sex is intended. I will edit it to the best of my ability and will rate this story M for sexual themes. Thanks and as I stated in 2003, leave reviews!

Chapter 1  
Nightmare

The cold night wind blew over the grassy plane. A lone tree stood silently in front of the red rising moon. It had fallen dark earlier than usual for some unknown reason. Two figures stood by the tree. They seemed to be arguing.

It didn't take long for the blood moon to rise. The couple continued to argue. The smaller who's silhouette appeared to be a woman began to walk away. The other figure who appeared to be a man followed, his hand reached into his long trailing coat. Even from a distance a person could tell it was a knife. He advanced on the woman thrusting the blade deep into her chest. Blood washed up over his white coat and as if tipped off by some unseen spy, he turned.

His piercing eye's caught sight of the boy only a few yards away. He had seen everything. Had he heard as well? Anyway that didn't matter. All he had to do was cast a spell over the boy and remove his memory. The boy was clad in a pale mint green male sleeping Kimono. His deep emerald green eyes just stared blankly at the gruesome scene.

The man straightened himself and let the dead woman fall from his arms. That objective had been executed, he had a new target: the boy. He wouldn't cast a spell just yet. No, he'd make the boy run, things would be more fun that way.

As if on cue the boy took off darting across the plane. The boy would not get far, for Muraki was much faster. He walked slowly watching the boy's futile attempt to escape. His eye's consumed the pale flesh sending small shudders threw his body. The boy's sandy hair cast a glow from the moonlight as it flew back from his face. His fine curves drove Muraki to the breaking point. He wanted to touch the boy and run his fingers threw the soft locks of sandy gold. Only out of lust, he had no other emotion for the boy. It was simply bloodlust. He had killed once tonight and he could smell the boy's fear, that smell drove him insane. He wanted to touch the velvety skin that was trying to escape and feel it tremble under his grasp as he pinned the boy to the ground.

His pace quickened again and he was right behind the boy. He grasped the boy's frail arm in his strong hands, pulling him to a stop. The boy cried out, begging for his life. A smile spread over Muraki's thin lips. He tore the belt off the Kimono and let it flutter to the ground. Tears streamed down the boy's face as Muraki wrestled him to the ground, and pulled open the Kimono.

His eye's devoured the pale flesh reflecting the moons light. Casting a light spell on the boy he removed his own clothes and leaned close to the boy's neck. His breath was hot and he left a thin trail of saliva on the boy's skin. Under Muraki's grasp the boy's body trembled uncontrollably. Just as a searing pain ripped through the boy's body, Hisoka bolted forward.  
Sweat trickled down his face mixing with his tears. He took deep breaths trying to slow his racing heart. The nightmare had returned again. The same nightmare had been torturing him for the past several weeks. He kept dreaming of Muraki's assault. Sometimes the dreams were so violent that he could again feel the pain as Muraki's onslaught reoccurred in his mind. Shaking Hisoka threw the covers back and put his feet on the cold wooden floor. The room was quiet and dark. He looked at his alarm clock. The red digits flashed 4:45.

Walking on shaky legs, Hisoka crossed the room, pulled on his bathrobe and opened the door. The hall was dark except for the small lights at each outlet. They produced enough light so that anyone wandering the halls that late could find their destination without getting hurt. Hisoka made his way to the bathroom. He flipped on the light making the small outlet light go out. He closed the door and made his way to the sink.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His sandy blond hair had fallen this way and that about his face. His face had paled but his eyes were still that violent shade of green. They appeared unchanged to him; they still held the hate for Muraki. He turned the cold knob and a jet of chilling water shot out and into the empty basin. Cupping his hands he caught the chilling water in his hands and splashed his face. Blindly he groped for the towel near the window. After his fingers caressed the soft fibers he pulled it to his face. Touching the soft towel to his skin he buried his face deep inside it. There was comfort in the towel. He couldn't exactly place it, but perhaps it was the fact that he didn't have to see anything or hear anyone.

Pulling the towel away, Hisoka hung it back in its original place. Looking out the window, he could see the sun rising. The morning mist would dissipate and the world would be buzzing with busy men, women, and children. How he wished that he could have once belonged to that world. His mother and father had both denied him that opportunity. They feared him and his "abnormality", or so they called it. His mother had even said that he was not her son. They had locked him in a cage to hide him and his imperfection from the world. When he had fallen ill they didn't even stay at his bedside as he passed into the next world. He had never experienced anything but pain in his life. No one had ever loved him or cared for him. Perhaps that's why he didn't know how to react to Tsuzuki. Tsuzuki was kindhim him and he had never risen his voice at him.

Sighing Hisoka turned the water off and looked again into the mirror. His face had regained some of its color. A bit of water had splashed on to his yellow pajama's causing a dark spot to form on the fabric. Ignoring the spot he opened the door to the hall and turned off the light. The little light in the outlet lit up again casting its small glow, something Hisoka had never been given the chance to do. He envied the little light somehow. Crossing the hall to his room he stopped. His legs were beginning to feel weak again. A shiver ran down his spine and pain wracked his chest. His airway was beginning to constrict and his vision was beginning to .  
. 

"Tsuzuki…." his legs gave out from under him and he melted to the ground.

The door to his right opened and Tsuzuki appeared. "Hisoka!"

The image of Tsuzuki began to mix with the wall as the room began to spin, being engulfed in darkness.

To be continued…


	2. Images

Disclaimers: I do not own Yami no Matsuei or Descendents of Darkness. However this Fanfiction is 100 mine! Thanks!

Authors note: Sorry there's some course language. I'm going to keep that to a minimum! Read and review! 

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Chapter 2  
Images

The rain poured down outside of a very old and traditional looking house. The once blue sky was consumed by the angry gray that was threatening to release its wrath on the world. The trees in front of the house moved with the chilling wind, their leaves bowing to the mighty force that drove them in the same direction.

A small child ran out of the house, silver tears lining his small round face. The droplets of rain pierced his white Kimono, staining the white a deeper shade. The wind blew back his sandy hair as he sprinted up the hill by the house. The sliding door that he had just ran from opened again and a man appeared in the doorway.

He had dark blond hair and a mean look about him. His cold blue eye's scanned the scenery looking for the small child that had run from his house. He spotted the frail white dot by the old birch tree. The stupid boy had done it again, and this time he would be punished. Walking calmly from the porch, the man made his way to the birch tree.

The small boy reached the top of the hill. He was soaked and shivering. The shivers didn't necessarily come from the wet clothes he was wearing, but from fear. He had done it again and this time he was in big trouble. He hadn't meant to of course, it had just happened. While preparing dinner in the kitchen, he had accidentally stumbled across his mothers' thoughts and had mumbled them out loud. He would have been fine if it hadn't been for that sneaky little rat of a brother he had. His siblings loved to watch Hisoka get beat for something he couldn't control.

Breathing heavily Hisoka leaned against the old birch tree. His small chest shuttered with each breath he took. The rain dripped from his hair and ran down his forehead into his eyes and down his face. It was unapparent now that the child had been crying. The raindrops had mixed with his tears washing away the tear streaks. The only way to tell was to get close enough to hear his ragged breathing. Sinking to the ground, Hisoka pulled his knees under him and buried his face. It had been an accident, he hadn't meant to do it.

"Boy! What are you doing?" The man shouted coming up the hill.

Hisoka froze. He didn't realize that his father had followed him.

"Well answer me damn you!" Hisoka's father shouted.

Fearing his father's wrath, Hisoka stood. His legs shook as he turned to face his father.

"Well boy? What are you doing?" He pressed.

"I was…I was…" He was cut short as a stinging sensation met his cheek.

"Running away?" His father questioned.

Hisoka shook his head. "No sir." He said trying hard not to cry. His cheek stung and a thin trail of blood escaped the corner of his mouth.

"Then what the hell were you doing?" He spat.

"I…I don't…I don't know sir!" Hisoka stuttered.

"You don't know?" His father spat. He grabbed Hisoka by the scruff on his neck causing him to yelp in pain. "Shut up! You filthy little bastard!"

His harsh words bit Hisoka causing him to burst into tears. It didn't matter to his father if he was hurting him. All that mattered was the punishment that he would be inflicting on his bastard child.

"Let go! You're hurting me!" Hisoka shrieked. These emotions were reaching the boundaries of his perception. Had he really done something that bad? He struggled to get free only resulting in angering his father more.

"Shut up. You don't know pain." His father spat.

He carried Hisoka around the house and back behind the garden. Dragging the boy past the pond he tossed him inside the cold damp shed.

"I'll be back." His father promised closing the door.

Standing Hisoka began to shake. There was no place to hide inside the "cage". A tear fell from his eye and he quickly wiped it away. Looking around the dark musty shed, he made his way to the driest corner. Thunder clapped loudly outside and he covered his ears. There was nothing for him to do except sit. His father would return shortly, and his punishment would be given.

Leaning up against the wall of the "cage", Hisoka tried to block out the day's events by staring blankly at the dark ceiling. No matter what he did, it was never right. Was it because he had been born with his empathic powers? He didn't ask for them, so why was he being punished for something he had no control over? Did his mother hate him that much? 

The door to the shed opened and his father walked back inside. In his hand he held a large circular object. Hisoka knew instantly what it was. It was the whip. His father had threatened him with it once before but had never before used it on him. His father released half of the whip letting the long leather cord fall to the ground.

"Come here boy." He commanded.

Trembling, Hisoka stood. He knew that if he continued to hide the punishment would be worse. He began to walk to his father when he felt his father's anger again. He collapsed, unable to move. His father picked him up by the shoulders and began to shake him.

"You bastard! Get up Hisoka!"

"Hisoka!" The voice began to merge with another kinder more gentle voice. "Hey Hisoka!" The hard hands that grasped his shoulders began to relax into a gentle hold.

Hisoka opened his eyes. He was looking to Tsuzuki's amethyst colored eyes, and they were full of worry. The room slowly came into focus and he realized he was not in the "cage", but in his bed in his room.

"Hisoka?"

"Tsuzuki?" Hisoka whispered hoarsely.

"Are you alright?" He asked his voice filled with concern.

Tsuzuki brushed away a few strands of sandy hair and pulled the blankets around Hisoka. His bathrobe rubbed against Hisoka's frail arm and Hisoka pulled back in fear.

"What's wrong?" Tsuzuki asked pulling away.

"It's your… your bathrobe." Hisoka croaked.

"What about it?" He asked.

"It felt like… like…." It was then that Hisoka burst into tears. "It hurts Tsuzuki." He coughed.

"What? What hurts?" Tsuzuki asked gently touching Hisoka's cheeks.

"It's my back…." Hisoka trailed.

Fear bottled in Tsuzuki. What did Hisoka mean? "Hisoka?" Tsuzuki looked at his mattress. Where Hisoka had been laying was a puddle of deep red crimson. His stomach jumping to his throat Tsuzuki looked at Hisoka's back. His yellow pajamas were stained a deep red. Hisoka was bleeding.

"What happened here?" Tsuzuki asked himself. "Hisoka, can I take your shirt off?" Tsuzuki asked. He needed to check the wound. If Hisoka was loosing that much blood, the wound had to be severe.

After not getting an answer, Tsuzuki gently began to roll the soft flannel fabric up. 

"Oh God Hisoka…."

To be continued…


	3. Fear

Disclaimers: I do not own Yami no Matsuei or Descendents of Darkness. However this Fanfiction is 100% mine! Thanks!

CT: This fic is rated MA for adult themes and situations! PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! THANKS!

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Chapter 3

Fear

After not getting an answer, Tsuzuki gently began to roll the soft flannel fabric up.

"Oh God Hisoka…."

The boy broke out into violent sobs as he covered his face. Tsuzuki stood and left the bedroom. Hisoka continued to cry. Why? Why was he having these visions? Why were they tormenting him? Unable to come to grips with his nightmare, Hisoka began to shake with convulsions. Tsuzuki reentered the room and sat again on Hisoka's bed.

"Hisoka, I need to treat your wounds. Is that okay?" He asked not wanting to spook the boy.

Looking at Tsuzuki through tear-filled eyes Hisoka nodded. He gingerly turned on his stomach so Tsuzuki could administer the medication. We winced as the different medications were applied, tears seeping down his face the entire time. He trembled as the cold liquid ran down the curves of this spine.

"Hisoka, you need to calm down. I can't treat your wounds if you don't stop shivering." Tsuzuki said with extra tenderness in his voice. To Tsuzuki the situation looked bad. Hisoka's back was not just cut it was ripped. Ripped like something had been brought down forcefully and pulled up again quickly. There was only two items that could do that, a whip and a belt. But how had it happened? He had been watching Hisoka from the moment he passed out to the moment he began to cry out in his sleep. Tsuzuki placed the last bandage on Hisoka's back before kneeling on the floor.

He leveled himself with Hisoka's face that was resting on the mattress and looked into the deep hues of emerald. They were tear-filled and held traces of pain. Tsuzuki wiped away his tears. Hisoka just stared blankly at him. Tsuzuki couldn't decide if it was because he was scared or exhausted. But whatever was torturing him needed to be dealt with quickly.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki asked taking his hand. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Hisoka shook his head. That was the only response Tsuzuki received. He sighed and stood up arranging himself on the bed. He ran a finger over the side of Hisoka's face to move some rouge hair. Hisoka drew away. Unsure of what to do Tsuzuki just sat there with Hisoka. Eventually he would pull out of his trance and tell him what was going on.

Tsuzuki sat there for hours watching the frightened boy. He'd sob sometimes and sometimes he'd shake uncontrollably. Tsuzuki had pulled a soft blanket around him and that seemed to help a bit. Hisoka however would not say anything. He barely moved and he didn't blink at all. Tsuzuki was unsure of what to take this as. Was Hisoka in shock? What has happened to him in his sleep? Was it really that bad? What could he do? Glancing at the clock near Hisoka's bed, Tsuzuki noticed that it was nearly two in the afternoon. He didn't want to leave Hisoka, but he needed to eat and so did Hisoka.

He smiled gently at the boy and spoke softly. "Hisoka, I'm going to go make something for us to eat. You need to eat something or you'll make yourself sick."

Tsuzuki stood and crossed the room. He opened the door and looked over his shoulder. Hisoka watched him as he walked into the hall and turn walking out of his view. Fear bottle in him and he lay very still, afraid to move and even afraid to breathe. Why was this happening to him? What had he done? He whimpered and looked wildly around the room. Was he in here? Was he going to whip him again for seeing things?

From the corner of the room Hisoka caught movement. Fear froze him as he closed his eyes. A slap was delivered to his head and he cried out. He opened his eyes and saw his father. His teeth were gritted and he had the usual angry expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

"I'm… please…" Hisoka said sitting up.

"I'll repeat myself one more time. What are you doing?"

"I…. I…."

Another slap was delivered to his face. "You think you can ignore me?"

"Tsuzuki…." Hisoka whimpered.

"I should beat you to death!" He grabbed Hisoka by the hair and pulled him from the bed.

"My, my, you are a beautiful boy." The voice was steadily changing to another. Hisoka's blood chilled at the sound. Powerful arms grabbed his small arms and he was pinned under the heavy body above him. With tears in his eyes he turned his face. The face of his father had dissolved into the face of Muraki.

"What ever are you doing? You're not supose to have seen that. You'll have to die now."

Hisoka felt Muraki roughly pull his clothes from his body. His throat was dry and he couldn't even cry out. Was this another nightmare? Muraki leaned in and Hisoka could again feel the warm breath on this neck. It made his hair rise. He began to tremble.

"Tsu…Tsuzuki help… help me!" He whispered.

"No one will help you. You must know that. After all you're mine now." Hisoka felt a piercing pain rip through his body and he scram out.

"TUSZUKI!"

"HISOKA! HISOKA! WAKE UP!" Tsuzuki was shaking Hisoka.

Hisoka's eyes flew open and he pushed Tsuzuki away. "Stay…Stay away…." Hisoka choked on his tears.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki scooted closer to the boy. They were both on the floor. When he had come in, because Hisoka had cried out his name, he found Hisoka lying on the floor. Placing a gentle hand on Hisoka's shoulder, Tsuzuki turned the boy to face him. "Hisoka, are you okay? What's happening to you?"

"Tsuzuki?" Hisoka flung himself into Tsuzuki's shirt and wept. Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around the frightened boy and lifted him bridal style from the floor. "It's okay Hisoka. What ever is hurting you, let's talk about it."

Hisoka hiccuped into Tsuzuki's shirt and held onto the fabric with a death grip. Tsuzuki carried him from the bedroom to the living room and gently set him on the sofa. Hisoka still gripped the shirt unwilling to let go.

"Hisoka, I need you to let go. I won't leave you alone long. I just need to grab a glass of water and a wet cloth."

Hisoka however would not release him and Tsuzuki found himself carrying Hisoka into the kitchen. He found himself maneuvering quite well despite the boy in his arms. He managed to get a glass of water and a cold rag before taking Hisoka again into the living room.

Laying Hisoka on the sofa again, Tsuzuki sat next to him and pushed his bangs from his face. Hisoka's grip had relaxed a bit, but not much. Placing the cold rag on Hisoka's forehead, Tsuzuki asked "So what happened?"

Hisoka took a deep breath while he tried to find his voice. Several moments passed before Hisoka finally said; "They're coming for me."

"Who's coming for you?" Tsuzuki asked pulling away from Hisoka's grip long enough to grab a blanket.

"Muraki and my father, They're coming for me."

To be continued…


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